(we're not) symbols of human failure
by keptein
Summary: Ed thinks it would be much easier to moonlight as a superhero if the government would stop suing him; he's getting sick of Roy Mustang darkening his doorstep. For his part, Roy would love it if Ed stopped making fun of both of his identities. RoyEd superhero AU


"Not you!" Ed tugged at his restraints, making faces at the shadow cutting a dramatic figure in the doorway.

"Again, Fullmetal?" Ed didn't need to see his mouth to know he was smirking because practically dripped from the man's words. Ed let out a noise of frustration and stuck his hands out, waiting impatiently as the ropes keeping his palms apart went up in flames.

"You don't look as cool as you think you do, Cinderella," he informed the man as he stood up, and a fire rose behind him, illuminating Cinder Flame for a brief second before the room fell back into darkness.

"Liar," Cinder Flame said with amusement, and Ed harrumphed.

"Are the guys outside? Did you kill them?"

"Yes," Cinder Flame said, and waited for Ed's teeth to grind before he continued, "and no. They're just unconscious, though I doubt their lungs will ever recover."

Ed shook his head. "Damn it, I wanted to get them to talk before the police arrived - do you ever do anything right?"

"They didn't tie me up -"

"It's only happened twice, and I've saved your ass so many times I've lost count, so don't -"

"However," Cinder Flame said pointedly, and waited for Ed to simmer down, "I think one of them might still be able to talk. The back-up will be here in five minutes."

"You're a bastard," Ed said, and went to interrogate the last of the would-be bombers.

"He's a bastard." Ed stormed into the lab, throwing himself dramatically onto their couch. Al watched patiently as his brother sighed, scowled, and stood up again, throwing off his red cloak and hood before crumpling it into a ball.

"I thought we agreed that you should take that off before coming home?" he said, and Ed scowled at him. "You know, what with it being bright red and you wanting to keep your identity secret and all."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Ed grumbled. "Aren't you supposed to ask me who the bastard is?"

"Let me guess, Cinder Flame did something you don't approve of again?" Al asked, busying himself by cleaning test tubes. "I don't really care that much, brother. I don't see why you do."

Ed loved Al, he did, but sometimes he just didn't get it. Cinder Flame didn't deserve Al taking his side, even passively - he had a responsiblity to the people, just like Ed did, and his unreasonable, cocky, murdering ways were definitely not upholding those responsibilities. "Because - people look up to him! And he can't just go around burning everyone to a crisp when we need information! First, he's all smug like some kind of pervert because I'm tied up -"

"Oh, dear."

"- and then he's gone and burned up most of the lackeys, and the only one that could talk wouldn't. How the hell am I supposed to tackle the big fish if he goes around killing the small fries!?"

"Well, you're not dead yet." Ouch. Ed shot his brother a glare, metal fist clenching at his side. Al beamed innocently, and Ed huffed.

"If you weren't my brother you definitely would be, asshole."

"I know, but I am!" Al replied cheerily, and then tossed Ed a shirt with long sleeves. Ed caught it sullenly, but missed the gloves that were hurled at his face two seconds later. "Put those on."

"Ugh, why? Who's coming?"

"Mustang."

"I'm being sued again?"

Al rolled his eyes. "Why do you always sound so surprised? He's around almost weekly these days."

"Because I'm 'naive', Al," Ed replied, fingers making air quotes. "I keep thinking that the government will let me use my own brain as I wish, but apparently that's 'unrealistic'. I hate that guy."

"No, you don't."

Ed flushed; Al could read him way too well sometimes. It made him glad that they'd always been close; he would have made a formidable arch-nemesis. "Yeah, well," he muttered. "I hate Cinderella, though. Seriously, I can't believe him, where does he get off on ruining every bust, the nerve-"

"What a terrible man," Al said, and Ed narrowed his eyes.

"If you're just going to make fun of me, you might as well stay quiet."

Al raised his eyebrows and looked towards the front door, and Ed sighed.

"Fine. I'll go change. Make some coffee, would you? Not enough for three cups!"

"Yeah, yeah," Al said, and started to clear a space on the table.

Roy Mustang stood in the doorway in an impeccable dark suit, holding his cane so it looked more like an accessory than a necessity. "Mr. Elric," he said, smirking.

Ed hated him, no matter what Al said. "Don't pretend like you know which one of us is here," he snapped, but Mustang's smirk only widened.

"Ed," Al scolded, "be nice. Mr. Mustang, there is a cup of coffee for you on the table if you'd like - nothing's been moved around."

"Thank you," Mustang said, and walked straight to the table as if this were his own home. Ed fumed.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

Mustang didn't stop the sip of coffee he'd just started, just let it go on and on, and Ed grew redder and redder until Al said, warningly, "Brother -"

Mustang sat the cup back down and moved his head in Ed's general direction. "I don't believe you don't know why I'm here. If you abandoned your quest for making an enemy of the government, you would never have to see me again."

Apparently being blind didn't stop you from being a smug jackass. Roy Mustang had been a pain in Ed's backside ever since he'd published his damn thesis, and Ed didn't give a damn that it was on the government's behalf - it felt like every little mistake Ed made, Roy was there, ready to sue him into an early grave. "It's not like I do it on purpose!" Ed said. Mustang raised his eyebrows. "Most of the time, anyway."

"I don't know if arguing that you infringed their copyright and publicly humiliated them by accident rather than on purpose would be a good idea," Mustang said. "Nevertheless, feel free to defend your actions as you wish. I'm only here to inform you of the claims, dates and -"

"Yeah, yeah," Ed said. "You have all the same papers as usual, right? I'll sign them right now."

"Brother -"

"Never sign a document without having your lawyer check it out first," Mustang said, sipping his coffee.

"Fine," Ed said through gritted teeth. "Do you have them? The normal ones, not yours."

"Brother -"

"I do," Mustang said, and smoothly produced several sheets of paper which he laid out on the table. "Well, then, I'd best be on my way. Thank you for the coffee, Alphonse."

"It was no trouble," Alphonse replied while Ed skimmed the documents.

"So, how much are they charging me this time - what? Three thousand pounds? Mustang -"

"Goodbye!" Mustang said cheerfully, and disappeared out the door.

"Wait, asshole!" Ed shouted after him, but the lawyer was already closing the door. Ed sighed, and turned to his brother, waving the papers in Al's face. "This is why I hate the guy."

"Nope," Al enunciated, making Ed groan. "You don't look that way at people you hate."

"I can look however I want at people who can't see me!"

"Mmhmm," Al replied, and Ed could only be grateful that he'd at least seemed to drop the subject. "Have you ever thought about having him defend you, though?"

"I can defend myself, Al! What makes you think I can't?" He hesitated, eyes drifting back to the large '£3000' emblazoned in red letters. "Besides, it's not like we can afford him anyway. Mr. Bigshot Lawyer charges a fortune; that's why he's so happy making me miserable."

"I don't think he's happy about that, brother…" Al smirked mischievously. "Besides, I'm sure you could persuade him to give you a discount."

"Will you shut the hell up and get back to work!?" Ed shouted. Al laughed, but didn't say anything more. "We should probably start working on some kind of nullifier, considering the amount of remote bombs I've had to deal with lately. From the way nobody's talking, we've got to assume they're up to something, you know?"

Opening the door to his flat, Roy wasn't met with the darkness he had expected - the room was as light as the hallway had been, though he couldn't discern any more than that. "Welcome home!" Riza called immediately. He placed his briefcase down against the wall and turned towards the sound of her voice with a fond smile.

"You are aware that you stopped being my roommate two years ago, aren't you? I'm fairly certain you have your own apartment. In fact, I know that it's upstairs."

"You'd miss me if I wasn't here," she replied, stating facts rather than teasing. Roy conceded the point and gratefully accepted the coffee she placed in his hands.

"I can also make my own hot drinks now," he told her, even as he took a long sip. "It's funny how you adapt to being blind after...how long has it been? Ten years?"

"Seven," Riza corrected. She knew Roy well enough not to give him time to muse on it, automatically steering him away from one of his moods. "Have you had dinner?"

"No. I can make my own dinner as well," he said, "but I won't stop you."

"Oh, you're helping," she said, smiling. He followed her into the kitchen, set his cup on the table, and after a few guiding touches from Riza, started pulling out the necessary ingredients.

"How was your day?" he asked, filling up the kettle.

"I was on call," she said as the loud sound of chopping filled the kitchen. "But I didn't get called in."

"Another thrilling day in Manchester," Roy said. "Clearly the city's superheroes are doing such a good job -"

The sound of chopping intensified. Roy could feel her piercing glare and flinched - he remembered with frightening accuracy the looks she was undoubtedly sporting, and just the memory was enough to make him jump. "Where'd you put your coffee cup?"

"Already put it in the dishwasher," she said, and he retrieved his own to do the same. "I assume that means you were out this morning, then," she continued after a pause, the chopped vegetables hitting a bowl. "I heard chatter about an explosion."

"It was nothing," Roy quickly reassured her, and she hummed.

"If it was nothing, why are you back so late? I didn't think you were supposed to be at the office today; where have you been?"

"At the Elrics'," Roy said. "I took another case; Edward is being sued again."

"Why do you keep taking them? I thought you said he was insufferable."

"They pay me a fortune just to get him to show up," Roy said, "I don't even have to win them."

"I'd pay to see you lose," she said, and he laughed.

"It would help if he actually hired a lawyer," Roy said, "but he insists on representing himself."

"You're all being complete morons!" Ed banged his fist on the council table, ignoring Al's tug on his sleeve. "It's my brain, how can I help which parts of it I end up using? You don't own me!"

"We do, however, own the research we funded," Roy countered, and Ed gawped at him across the room, wishing he could wipe the smug smile off his face.

"I can't believe you -" Ed stopped when the judge banged on her gavel, using her free hand to rub her temples. Ed recognised her from the last three times he'd been put in this position, and to be honest, he applauded her commitment. The last judges had requested never to be put in a room with them after just one case.

"Communicate through the court, please, gentlemen," she said shortly. Roy cleared his throat as Ed scowled.

"The research they funded was my first postgraduate project, Olivier - I mean, Your Honour," he said through gritted teeth. "It's really basic stuff - for me, anyway - and it's pretty much impossible to do anything without referencing that as some kind of foundation. Not if I want people to actually understand what I'm doing."

"I suggest, then, that you come to some form of arrangement," Olivier told him, banging her gavel again. "Judgement to the plaintiff for the amount of £3,000. Case dismissed, and do not let me see you back here again."

"But Olivier -!"

"Get. Out."

Al ushered Ed from the room, keeping a firm grip on his arm the whole way. Ed shook himself free once they were in the hallway, kicking at the floor with his boots. He cursed and Al gave him a placating look.

"You really do need to stop doing this, brother," he told him with a soft smile. "Or, at the very least, get a judge that will call recess! I'm going to the bathroom."

Ed made a face as Al set off down the hallway at a brisk, stilted pace, and leant against the wall with his arms folded. He straightened up when he saw Roy exiting the courtroom, waiting for him to shake hands with the other prosecutors - the bastards - before calling out to him.

"Hey." Roy turned at the sound of his voice, blank eyes settling a little to the left of Ed's face. "You happy now?"

Roy grimaced and gave a small shrug. "It doesn't give me pleasure to see you go broke, Edward."

"Of course not, because you can't actually see it, can you?" Ed retorted. Roy sighed, and Ed mentally kicked himself. He hadn't meant to make the guy sad, damn it. It wasn't his fault Roy gave him those kinds of openings.

"Regardless," Roy said, "the sentiment remains. Maybe you should hire a better lawyer?"

Ed snorted. "Like hell! I don't trust any of you." He hesitated. "Any recommendations?"

"Well, there aren't that many better than me, but if you wanted to take a look at my prices, I'd consider it."

"Seriously?" Ed asked. Roy looked almost taken aback by his sincerity, so he quickly backtracked, "I mean, I'm not interested. At all. But you would?"

"If I only worked the cases I believed in, I'd be worse off than you, Edward."

Ed's face darkened. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not interested then, right?"

"I didn't mean yours."

Ed paused and looked at him, eyes narrowing. "Okay," he said slowly, watching him closely - for a blind man, Roy gave surprisingly little away.

They stood in stilted silence for a bit, Ed running calculations in his head, still looking at Roy from the corner of his eye. Finally, Roy started talking,

"So, it's been a - "

"Hello again, Roy!" Al returned, stepping quickly to Ed's side. "It's not very fun with Armstrong for a judge, is it?"

Roy shook his head, smiling slightly. "She's very to the point," he said diplomatically.

"Yeah, to the point of stabbing someone," Ed muttered, and Roy quickly masked his laugh with a cough while Al looked around nervously.

"Careful, she might find out you said that, she has eyes everywhere," Al said, then looked over at Roy and startled. "Oh, Roy, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," Roy said easily and gestured with his cane. "I should probably be on my way."

"I'm sure we'll meet again soon," Al said.

"Hopefully under better circumstances," Roy replied as he started to walk. "Do think about my offer, Edward."

"I won't!" Ed yelled after him, but that didn't stop Al from turning to him as soon as Roy was out of earshot.

"What offer?"

"Nowt," Ed said quickly. "Boring lawyer stuff, yadda yadda yadda. You know how he is. Also, since how long have you called him 'Roy'?"

"I'm polite," Al said, "something you don't care about - how long have you called him 'Roy'?"

"I don't - he's a bellend, I don't like him," he said quickly. "His last name is too cool for him, is all."

"Only you would think 'Mustang' is a cool last name," Al said with a sigh, and started steering them towards the exit.

Roy felt a rush of air on his left side and sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the attack aimed at his abdomen. Following the movement, he extended his arm to where his assailant had paused, breathing heavily. Snapping his fingers, he waited for the sound to echo back to him before he smirked. "Got you," he murmured, sending fire towards the enemy and waiting for the moment it would hit his target.

He frowned when there wasn't a scream to confirm his success.

"Hey, asshole!" Another voice came from the direction he had sent the flame. "Don't kill these guys - we need information."

"Did you honestly just save the man who was trying to bury this lock-up?" Roy asked, astounded. "Do you know how many people will die if they succeed?"

"Well, we're here now, aren't we?" Fullmetal retorted, and Roy rolled his eyes behind the mask. "Look, Cinderella, there have been two incidents in the last two weeks. Don't you think it might be a good idea to see if they can actually tell us something?"

Roy had to swallow his reply when he heard a sound behind him, quickly snapping his fingers to discover that the other assailant (there were only two, he was sure, but it didn't hurt to have Fullmetal backing him up to confirm it) was attempting to catch him off-guard. This time he aimed his fire slightly off target - enough to singe, but not to do any serious damage.

"I have to tell you, it's fairly difficult to use powers like mine non-violently."

"You'd better let me take over, then."

Roy felt the ground begin to tremble beneath him, and quickly moved to stand behind Fullmetal. The first time he'd felt Fullmetal use his powers, he had thought he'd been caught in a freak earthquake - it hadn't been until Riza had read the reports to him that he had realised Fullmetal was more than a metal-limbed vigilante.

"If you can handle it," Roy teased. "Last time, I seem to remember you being quite the damsel in distress."

The ground seemed to shake particularly violently at that, and Roy couldn't help his grin. Fullmetal was so expressive that it didn't matter that he couldn't see him - Roy was never left wondering how he felt.

"I would have been fine!" Fullmetal yelled between breaths, and Roy heard the knock of metal on bone. He stood back, wanting to join the fight but unable to take the risk of hurting Fullmetal - he fought at high speeds, and Roy wasn't sure he would be able to detect their movements in time. He looked up sharply when he heard the sound of ribs cracking, and Fullmetal called to him hoarsely.

"Get the other guy!"

Roy reacted on instinct, running in a random direction as the earth began to shake again, before gathering his wits and snapping his fingers. The sound bounced off the nearby buildings, lost in the earth's vibrations, and Roy cursed. When the shaking finally stopped, Roy turned towards the sound of Fullmetal's uneven footsteps.

"You let him get away!" Fullmetal shouted, still breathing heavy. "Why the hell would you let him get away?"

"I'm sorry," Roy said, feeling useless and hating it, "he was too fast."

"Well," Fullmetal said with a sigh, "I guess his looks explain that. I can't believe you just lost to a guy who's, like, half-chimpanzee or something."

What.

"Right…" Roy said, uncertain. It was at times like this that he thought he ought to be more open about his blindness in this persona; it would save him from so many awkward moments.

"I mean, what are we fighting, a zoo?" Fullmetal continued, "at least we caught the lion guy, though. We can interrogate him while we're here."

What. The sound of sirens saved him from having to come up with a suitable response.

"Sounds like the interrogation is going to take place at the police station instead, Fullmetal," Roy said. He snapped his fingers subtly, feeling out where Fullmetal had detained the criminal who was apparently also part lion and called to him. "I'd be careful if I were you. Cops don't look kindly on those who endanger their comrades' lives."

The criminal sniffed in disdain. "Like it matters. Kimblee will have me out before the day's up, I guarantee it."

"Who's -" Roy began, but was interrupted when the police car entered the alleyway, engine cutting off. The police had mixed reactions to superhero work, and he didn't want to stick around to see whether or not they'd be friendly. Turning to leave, he almost tripped over Fullmetal, stopping just as his knees came into contact with shoulders.

He's on the ground? Is he hurt?

"What are you doing?" Roy asked, angling his head downward. He heard Fullmetal's sharp intake of breath, and leant backwards just in time to avoid being hit in the chin when the superhero stood up fully.

"I thought I saw something…" Fullmetal began, and then seemed to backtrack. "But it's none of your business!" Hearing the sound of the police drawing closer, they ducked into a corner of the alley, Fullmetal's hand on his arm to keep them both out of sight.

"You don't want to work together on this?" Roy asked quietly. He could feel Fullmetal's face close to his own, and the opportunity was too good to miss. He moved quickly, placing a hand on the other superhero's knee. "If you share your findings with me, we might be able to discuss mine over coffee."

"I - shut up, Cinderella!" Fullmetal said, shoving at Roy so he had to struggle to maintain his balance. Roy could tell he was flustered, and counted it as a point, imagining that Fullmetal was probably blushing. "I don't work with killers."

Well, that dampened the mood somewhat. "Alright," Roy said, for lack of a better response, and moved away from Fullmetal. He was tired of defending his actions, and even though he admired Fullmetal's resolve, he'd long since stopped being so naive. "I suppose I'll just see you the next time, then. If this 'Kimblee' is powerful enough to break a bomber out of jail, then I can't imagine it will be too long."

"... so that's what I've been up to," Ed said, and Winry hit him with a rolled-up newspaper. "I'm not a dog!"

"You're as stupid as one," she said, shaking her head. "Chasing bombers? In Manchester?"

"Someone has to," Ed said, "someone has to stop them."

"I know," Winry sighed, then started rolling up her sleeves. "You asked me here for my opinion on something, right? Where is it?"

"And also we haven't seen you in ages," Al added, and her smile brightened. Ed went to fetch the tiny wiring he'd squirreled away from the crime scene.

"We had some questions about this," he said, and placed the bundle on the table in front of her - Winry looked momentarily disappointed by the size of it, then her expression turned to intrigued as she studied it.

"You stole this, didn't you?"

"Reappropriated," Ed stressed. "For the good of the country!"

"Yeah, yeah," she said, "hand me my microscope, one of you, and stop blabbering - I need to concentrate."

"Blabbering," Ed muttered disbelievingly, and after Al handed her the microscope, they went into the kitchen to give Winry the silence she needed to work.

"She's right about some of it," Al said as he opened tins of cat food, propped open the window and put them on the windowsill. "You've been out so often lately, I'm afraid you'll fall asleep over a vat full of acid one of these days."

"Can't exactly take a break in the middle of it, now, can I?" Ed replied, grabbing this opportunity to make himself a sandwich. "Kimblee, or whatever his name was, is still out there. I need to stop him. Easy as that."

"Cinder Flame could handle it for one night, couldn't he?"

"I don't trust him," Ed said through a mouthful of food. "You know his mask covers his eyes, right? Creepy as hell - I don't know how the guy sees through that."

"Yeah," Al said, sighing, "I know. You've told me."

Ed nodded as if that proved his point. "And anyway," he continued after a big bite, "Cinder always gets wrong when I'm not there."

Al hmmed and changed the order of the cat food.

"And he suggested we work together," Ed said, "as if I'd ever work with him!"

"Isn't that what you're doing already?" Al pointed out, and Ed gave him a dirty look.

"Not working working," he said, gesturing with his sandwich. "He said we should 'share our findings', did I tell you that?"

"Yes," Al said. "In detail."

"What a creep," Ed said.

"Maybe he doesn't have any other superhero friends," Al said diplomatically, petting the third cat to jump on the windowsill. "Maybe he's lonely."

Ed snorted. "No, he's just -"

"I've got it!" Winry shouted, and Ed stuffed the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and said,

"You'd better close that window, I don't want your flea carriers around my lab -"

"I will, when they've eaten," Al said, but closed the kitchen door after them to appease him.

"I don't know why I didn't see it immediately, it's not a hard design," Winry said once they got back. "I'm pretty sure it's part of a Bradley bomb, or something that mimics the same effect."

"Are they still being made?" Al asked, frowning.

"Not as far as I know," Winry said, "which is interesting - from what you describe, Ed, I'd say there have been clear improvements to the impact radius, which is why it went out of use in the first place, but the main layout of it should be the same."

Ed had gone quiet, still studying the wiring. "Bradley. That's a military bomb, right? How could he be getting hold of them?"

"Well, there's a lot of military equipment on the black market, if you know where to look," Winry offered, and added at Ed's alarmed glare, "not that I do know! That's not something I go near. Ever. But if I did, I'd tell you that I hadn't seen one of these around."

"So he's getting them directly from the military?" Ed asked, frowning.

"That doesn't mean they're giving them to him," Al tried to reassure him. "He could be stealing them. We don't even know who he is."

"Or she," Winry offered, "What? Master criminals can be women too, you know. I could have been your nemesis, Ed."

"Aren't I lucky I know so many terrifying people…" Ed grumbled.

"He - or she - could have an inside seller, too," Al continued, "how much would they go for if you did see one, Winry?"

"A lot," she said. "Old military equipment is huge in some circles - the seller might not know they're being used, as most of it tends to be collectors looking for their final show jewel."

"We could buy one," Ed said, "for study."

"Didn't you just hear me saying they're nowhere to be found -"

"We have no money, brother," Al said.

"Oh." Ed pulled a face. "Yeah."

"You have no money?" Winry repeated, looking between them.

"Ed is still being sued," Al said.

"By Mustang, that blind bastard -"

"It's not Mustang suing you, it's the government -"

"Don't talk like that, Ed, jeez -"

"- listen, I'll talk how I want, and it's not the government darkening my doorstep every other day, now is it?"

"Every other day?" Winry said, and exchanged looks with Al.

"Ed exaggerates," Al said. "But he's been here a lot. Because Ed keeps getting sued."

"It's my brain -"

"At this point, brother, I wonder if you want him to keep coming over -"

"Al! Don't - stop - no," Ed said forcefully, reddening slightly. "He's annoying. I hate him."

Winry exchanged looks with Al again, now looking positively gleeful. "Really," she said.

"Yes - what are you looking at me like that for?"

"You don't look like you hate him," she said.

"Well, luckily he doesn't look like anything," Ed answered automatically, and the growing smile on Winry's face promptly disappeared.

"Why do you keep making fun of him?" she asked. "It's not very nice. I'm surprised you would, considering - "

"Considering what," Ed said with narrowed eyes, and Winry raised her eyebrows at him - he'd never learned how to intimidate her enough to stop speaking.

"Your prosthetics," she said, gesturing towards his arm. "I know it's not the same -"

"No, it's completely different - "

"But you'd think it would make you more sympathetic."

"What, because I'm disabled too?" He pulled a face.

Winry shrugged. "Yeah."

"It's completely different," he repeated. "Besides, I'm not making fun of him, I'm just - "

"Making fun of him," Al put in.

"It's not like I can help it!" Ed protested. "The puns are just there, what else am I supposed to do?"

"Don't be so insensitive," Winry said, and hit him with the newspaper again.

"Says you," Ed complained, rubbing his arm.

Al watched them bicker with a resigned look, before the sound of something falling to the floor and shattering sounded from the kitchen.

Ed turned to Al. "If one of those cats has broken my plates again -"

"Our plates, brother, and they wouldn't break them if you didn't leave them out -"

"But what if I want more food?"

Winry coughed loudly. "Was this -" she waved at the wires, "- the only reason you guys wanted me over?"

Ed and Al exchanged a look. "No?" Al tried.

"Because if it was," she said, checking her watch, "we can go for dinner now."

"Great idea," Ed said, nodding frantically. "I'm starving."

"So it turns out your 'Kimblee' has a bit of a reputation." Havoc sailed through the door of Roy's apartment thirty minutes late, tucking a half smoked cigarette into his pocket with one hand and waving a collection of papers in the other. "The guy has a record as long as my arm."

"Do you have an address?" Riza asked, straight to the point.

Roy had been discussing the case with his friends - all well connected to different investigative services, of course - with no progress, and he cast his head toward the doorway, hopeful. He heard Havoc making his way to the kitchen, and assumed the police officer was helping himself to coffee.

"Nope," he called from the kitchen, and Roy's shoulder sagged. Next to him, Falman sighed. "We don't even have a first name. Or a surname. I can't really tell with this one." The footsteps resumed, and Roy heard the sound of Havoc settling into the armchair on the other side of the coffee table. "Hey, where's Fuery?"

"On a date," Breda replied, and Roy smothered a laugh at Havoc's outraged groan.

"Seriously? That dweeb gets a date and I'm stuck doing extra work on my night off?"

"He sounded very excited," Riza added.

"It's sad to hear how little you value the people of this city, Jean," Roy said mildly. "And let's not blame your dateless state on the little I ask of you. Did you find anything useful?"

"Shut up," Havoc grumbled. "And the record's useful, isn't it? I mean, it tells us that he's clearly working for someone."

"Really? I thought he was at the top of the food chain…" Falman said. "I mean, you can't go much higher than someone who has the power to get his lackeys out of jail in less than six hours, can you?"

"Apparently you can. Or if you can't, then he's wielding someone else's power. The only connection we can make between his crime scenes is that he uses the same kind of bomb - a Bradley. Aside from that, it's pretty obvious that he's been cleaning up other people's messes; he's been involved in drug rings, assassination attempts...all successful, too."

"That falls in line with the bombings we've witnessed so far," Riza told him. "They've all been crime scenes, right?"

"Four crime scenes. The incident where we apprehended the...lion-man - and I'm still having trouble believing that, by the way - was an evidence lockup."

"We?" Havoc asked. "From what I read in the paper, that was all Fullmetal's work. You were pretty useless."

Roy aimed a middle finger across the coffee table. Riza coughed deliberately, and Roy could only guess that Havoc had been about to throw something at him - which wasn't a rare occurrence; Roy supposed it was refreshing that someone continued to torment him even after he was blinded.

"So even if we get to Kimblee, we still might not get to the bottom of it?" Riza asked.

"Maybe not, but he's the only name we've got right now, and he's the next link in the chain," Roy said.

"Does the Bradley give us any more info?" she asked Breda, who shook his head.

"I haven't heard of it in years," he said.

Riza pressed her lips together, then smiled. "I'll call Rebecca."

Roy could practically feel Havoc perk up. "Here?"

"If she feels the need to come in," Riza said over her shoulder, already heading for the hallway to make her call.

"I love that woman," Havoc sighed.

"We know," Breda said. "Why don't you just - ow, Vato, what?"

"While Riza is getting relevant information for our bomber," Roy said with a meaningful head-tilt toward Breda, "I want a detailed visual of our crime scenes, Falman."

"Yes, sir," Falman said with amusement, and started explaining Havoc's photos with the detail and accuracy of the camera itself.

After a while, Riza came back in, settling back on the couch next to Roy.

"Rebecca hasn't heard anything new," she stated as soon as Falman finished talking. "She knows a collector who's looking for a Bradley bomb, and has been for a long time - this has to be a private transaction."

"So there's a leak in the military," Breda concluded, sighing.

"Not necessarily," Riza said. "Bradley bombs are old, and Rebecca said the radius of damage would be impossible with a military standard Bradley. They've been altered in some way, which means either our seller or our buyer has significant technical knowledge, or there's a third party involved."

"The seller could be retired," Roy pointed out. "If the point is damage, not vintage collections, a younger military official would smuggle out the current bombs used by the military - a Bradley is still harmless compared to them."

"It just seems like such a hassle," Havoc said, "buying old military bombs and then improving them, instead of just using modern ones. Why would he do that?"

The room was quiet for a second, before suggestions started piling up.

"To send a message?" Falman said.

"The Bradley specializes in localized damage," Roy said.

"He's a huge hipster?" Breda suggested, and Havoc chuckled.

"Or maybe because we're having such a hard time tracing them," Riza offered. "The military would crack down hard on any equipment being used outside their ranks, and any leak would show itself - old weapons like these, who aren't being used anymore, they can distance themselves from completely."

Roy nodded while she talked.

"So we're looking for a fucking mastermind then," Havoc said, and the weight of his sigh could be felt throughout the room. "Brilliant."

It was late, or early, or whatever it was at arse o'clock in the morning, and Ed was tired. He felt like he'd been out every night this week - this Kimblee running around meant every petty two-bit criminal wanted to try their hand, see how much they could get away with when the police was still overwhelmed, and he had his hands full trying to keep it somewhat manageable.

He stopped in an alleyway, clapping his hands together and putting them against the asphalt. The ground rolled like a wave toward the assailant, who darted away - Ed frowned, put his palms together and reached for the wall, and the brick reached out like a hand to keep the criminal in its grip. The would-be victim stood frozen in fear until he dropped to his knees - praying, Ed thought, until he could see that the man was searching for his wallet.

Finally, Ed walked up to the robber, rolling his shoulder until it made a cracking sound. "I'll free you if you go report yourself," he sighed, and the robber nodded violently. The brick fell away, slowly reshaping itself into its old form, and the robber stumbled away, mumbling something about Fullmetal that Ed couldn't be bothered to hear.

He was helping the other man up, wallet safely in hand, when a shadow fell over him and obscured the faint light the moon gave. Ed looked up, and his eyes immediately narrowed.

"What do you want? Are you being followed?"

"No," Cinder Flame said. The man was still clinging to Ed's forearm, so he shook him off and nodded along to his repeated thank you, god bless you until the man finally left. Cinder Flame smiled as he retreated. "Another adoring member of the public, I see."

"Like you can talk," Ed said, clapping his hands a final time to reform the last bits of asphalt. "Where's your fanclub?"

"All good boys and girls should be in bed by this hour," Cinder Flame purred.

"What does that make us?"

"What do you think?" Cinder Flame said, and left his words hanging in the air for a few seconds before he laughed to break the tension. "It doesn't matter - this time of day doesn't treat anyone kindly."

"You can say that again," Ed said, "if I find one more hack criminal tonight, maybe I'll just kip on them until they stop."

"A unique approach, certainly," Cinder Flame said. "There's a 24-hour Greggs around the corner if you're really desperate."

Ed made a face, though he didn't know if Cinder Flame could see it under the hood and domino mask. "I hate that place," he complained. "Their coffee is shit."

"Pasties aren't that bad," Cinder Flame argued.

"Not that bad doesn't equal good," Ed said. "Come on, then."

The poor employee on shift didn't make a fuss out of who they were beyond a quick double-take as they entered, and filled their orders almost immediately. Ed took a cautious sip of his coffee and grimaced. "Yeah, no, still awful."

"Wakes you up, though," Cinder Flame said through his meat and potato pasty - it was strange seeing the normally regal Cinder Flame so mundane, and the sight made Ed laugh. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing," Ed said, waving it away. "It's been a busy few days, huh?"

Cinder Flame swallowed before he replied. "Worryingly so," he said. They sat down on a bench, Ed absently letting his eyes wander over the wide, empty street on either side of them. "Kimblee is still out there."

"Hey, I'm working on it," Ed replied, insulted.

"So am I," Cinder Flame said, "and while a mediocre effort from you is more than many people's best, there's nothing to do about a man who won't be - can't be - found."

Ed blinked. "My mediocre - I give this job my all, you know!"

"It was a compliment," Cinder Flame replied after a sip of coffee, "meant sincerely. You're extraordinary, Fullmetal, surely you realize that."

What.

Ed stared at him. He dropped the pasty in his hand.

What.

Cinder Flame shifted. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said, "I just - "

Ed finally managed to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "What," he said. "I mean, thank you - but also - have you seen me, I mean, I'm not -"

Cinder Flame laid a hand on his arm, and Ed went quiet immediately, automatically leaning closer - "Did you hear that?" he asked.

Ed shook his head, mostly to clear it. "Hear what?"

"An explosion," Cinder Flame said, standing up and downing his coffee in one go. "We have to hurry, come on!"

They ran out of the shitty coffee shop, Ed crumpling his shitty coffee and tossing it behind him - he'd done the city so many favours, they could deal with his littering. "They're getting there quicker," he said, keeping pace beside Cinder Flame.

"They don't care about us knowing it's related," Cinder Flame replied.

"It's not Kimblee committing the crimes, though, is it?" Ed asked. "He just cleans up."

"Someone cleans up on his command, rather," Cinder Flame said, and came to an abrupt halt. The smell of explosives hung in the air, and the streetlights faintly illuminated the figure of a non-descript man kneeling with his back to them.

"Can you see him?" he asked Cinder Flame, voice hushed.

Cinder Flame snapped his fingers. "Yes."

That was such a weird quirk of his - very showy, Ed supposed, and 'showy' seemed to be ninety percent of Cinder Flame's character.

Ed's own red coat billowed in the wind. He refused to note any hypocrisy in his thinking.

"Hey!" he yelled. "You! Stop!"

The bomber looked up, sniffed the air and startled - he stood as if to run, and Ed quickly erected a wall to block off his exit. "Shout at him and alert him to our presence," Cinder Flame murmured. "Excellent strategy."

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Ed said and started running towards the man. The bomber flexed aggressively, which Ed thought was kind of unnecessary, and then his shirt started to rip, and skin grew ashen and spiky. "Not this again," he moaned, "wasn't lion man enough?"

"How does he look?" Cinder Flame shouted from a bit away. Two black-clad figures had appeared from around the corner, and they were currently surrounded by winding circles of flames, contrasting with the darkness of night around them.

So showy. "Like a … boar? Or a porcupine? What are you?" Ed asked the man.

The man just grunted and punched him - Ed dodged it, and tried to flip him over, but the man stayed where he was. His punches came fast and strong, and Ed didn't have time to clap his hands and change the scenery in his favour - he darted around him as best he could, looking for the man's weak spot. Ed landed a punch with his right arm on the man's spiked shoulder, breaking the quills only to see them lengthen again.

"What the shit," Ed said, and had to vault backwards as several of the quills launched themselves at him.

The man didn't give him any time to breathe, relentlessly pursuing him across the street - if Ed could only get close enough to a wall to find the earth in it and bend it into shape, but the man refused to fall back like he should, even though Ed was faster, and he had to keep changing direction to keep him off him.

"A little help?" he called to Cinder Flame, and immediately he could feel a sharp pain in his left shoulder - one of the porcupine man's quills. It felt like someone had stabbed him with Pinako's knitting needles, though they had to be laced with a numbing agent, because he could already feel it spreading. He stumbled, dropping to lower ground and turning so he could kick the man in his chest - his metal leg boosted it, making the man go flying. Ed dug out the quill from his side and put it in his pocket - it scraped against something else, and he pulled out a small cylinder.

Ed's coordination was already slipping, the agent spreading quickly, and his fingers shook as he pointed the device in front of him and hit the button. A piercing sound emitted from it, and the boar man roared, his already twisted face contorting further - Ed could hear another yell as well, and with surprise he realized it was Cinder Flame, who must have been caught off-guard by the sound.

Suddenly, the street was ablaze. So fucking showy, Ed thought, and then he didn't have time to think anymore, because the second bomb went off.

The bomber had been kneeling over something when they arrived, and this must have been what he was setting off - another Bradley, even more localized than the first one. The fire slowly died out, and the man they were fighting seemed shaken, sweaty - but not as helpless as Ed's device should have rendered him.

"What - the hell - " Ed said between punches, putting all his force behind his metal arm until finally the man was pushed back, "- are you?"

"None of your business," the man said, and in the time it took him to speak, Ed clapped and dropped to the ground.

The street rose up around the man, caging him in - the man leaped over the asphalt bars, clearly giving up on the fight as he turned tail and ran while Ed was still finding his feet.

The last Bradley had taken all but one of the streetlights out, and Ed couldn't spot Cinder Flame in the flickering light. "Cinderella?" he called out.

"I'm here," Cinder Flame replied, and punctuated it with a pained huff.

Ed stumbled over to him, hands already reaching out. "What's wrong, are you hurt?"

"Shrapnel," Cinder Flame said, "when the Bradley went off."

"Did you do that on purpose?" Ed said, "no, move your hands - I'll take a look if you just -"

"I'm fine," he said, pushing Ed's hands away. "That device - isn't that what Edward Elric is currently being sued about?"

Shit. "Uh, yeah," Ed said, waving said device around. "Guess I'll have to go back and tell him it doesn't work, huh?"

Cinder Flame huffed. "What's your connection to him?"

"I work with him," Ed said after a pause, belatedly on guard. "Why?"

Cinder Flame shrugged and then doubled over, hands clutching at his side. "No reason," he gritted out. "I'm going to leave now."

"I - don't die on the way home!" Ed shouted after him, frowning as he watched Cinder Flame stagger off into the darkness.

Roy unlocked the door to his apartment, stumbling as he moved towards the living room. The pain was disorienting him, and he bumped his leg against the couch before sinking into it. He reached for his mobile phone, left in its usual position on the coffee table, and keyed in Riza's number.

It rang three times before she answered, no trace of sleep in her voice. "Roy."

"Riza. Sorry to wake you; I could use some assistance. Would you mind coming down?"

There was a click as Riza hung up, not bothering to reply. Thirty seconds later she was letting herself into his apartment, and he heard the flick of a light switch and her soft intake of breath.

"What happened to you?" she asked, keeping her voice level as she sat beside him on the couch. Roy grimaced.

"A bomb went off. It's just shrapnel; I need you to help me get it out."

Riza hummed, disapproving, and the weight on the couch shifted as she left. He heard her clattering around the bathroom, and she returned with his first aid kit. She helped him remove the top half of his costume, and he leant back against the cushions, hissing as she poured alcohol on the wound. She tsked, and Roy didn't need her to say anything to hear the 'you asked for this' that was on her mind.

"Did you get him, at least?" Riza asked after a moment's silence.

"No. I'm afraid I did bugger all, this time. Fullmetal may well have been better off alone."

"Fullmetal was there?"

"Yes." Roy smiled. "We had coffee."

"That's interesting," Riza commented. Roy had thought it was as well - usually any gesture of camaraderie was rejected off the bat by Fullmetal. It had been a surprise when he accepted, and such a shame that they were interrupted. Riza continued to prise the shrapnel from his side and Roy did his best not to wince, searching for topics to distract himself.

"It's a small world we live in," he said eventually, "Fullmetal works for Edward Elric."

"Oh?"

"He used the device that was the subject of Elric's most recent lawsuit; I thought I would do some digging. But I wasn't aware that anyone besides the Elric brothers did any work in the lab."

"Have they had any visitors while you were there?"

"One, but he was from another country, and they said he was on holiday. They could have been lying to me, though - Edward doesn't trust me. He thinks I'm working for the other side, of course."

"Well, technically, you are."

"Not really; I had that meeting with Alphonse last year, remember? I force the government to give him a break, most of the time."

Riza let out an exasperated laugh, "are you really that curious about who Fullmetal is? You've never wanted to share your identity with anyone."

Roy frowned. To be honest, he didn't really need to know who Fullmetal was to keep working with him, and he'd never given it much thought before. The other superhero fascinated him, and he certainly wanted to connect with him, but he'd always held the illusion that they might somehow be able to separate their 'hero' lives from their personal ones. It was only when the possibility of tracking him down became more real that he had felt any pull towards finding out who he was.

"It would be easier...to work together if we could grab something to eat without being in this get up," he said slowly, and Riza's tut of disbelief was enough to know that she wasn't buying it.

"Well, if you're so desperate to make your life more convenient, why don't you just treat it like one of your cases? It's just an investigation, and it sounds like you have something to go on."

Roy hummed thoughtfully. "I do already spend a lot of time at the Elrics'...I suppose it wouldn't hurt to call on them a few more times."

"As long as you keep out of their blast radius," Riza commented drily, and Roy laughed.


End file.
